Metzger
by Ray-J
Summary: Short story with mindless action. A slaver underestimates a stranger and makes the worst deal of his life. Please Review.


I shifted through yesterday's papers, there was some message from that Lara girl, thanking me for giving her the opportunity to take over Tyler's post at the church. Tyler was a good man, but he took too many liberties and made too many mistakes, so a change of personnel was welcome. I carried on with the papers, next on the list was a problem with the water supply for the tribals in the cage out back. Those stinkin' tribals are lucky I'm generous enough to give them any water, if they keep complaining about their compensation, I'll give them something to complain about.

A knock from the door to my office interrupted my thoughts. "What is it?" I called out.

A deep voice resonated from the other side of the door. "That guy's back again, he says he's got the money to buy the fat mechanic."

"Hold on a damn minute." I promptly sorted the papers on my desk and placed them back in the drawer to the side. I paced casually into the main room and met eyes with the outsider, who still wore that old one-sleeved leather jacket, his distant tribal eyes glimmered with hatred as I entered opposite him. I noted the 10mm pistol holstered on his belt and half expected him to try to shoot me on the spot. I stroked the shotgun at my side to remind him he wasn't the only one packing heat today. "So, you got my money?"

"Not yet, but I've got a proposition for you," the outsider said.

"Don't play with me, boy. If you don't have my money what are you doing here?" I asked, my patience already wearing thin.

"I told you, I've got a proposition for you. I want to sell you a slave."

I managed to conceal the smile that almost touched my lips with the thought. "Your dirty tribal friend?"

"His name's Sulik," he said.

"Whatever, bring him in."

The outsider left the room for a second and came back with the depressed-looking tribal with that huge bone through his nose and his hands tied behind his back. I signalled to the tribal to come my way and he complied with his head hung low. Two of my men checked the poor bastard while I turned my attention back to the outsider.

"Do we have a deal?" The dark eyed stranger asked me.

After getting the all clear signal from my men, I answered him, "Deal. Here's the money." I threw a money pouch his way, pleased with the profit I was bound to make from this new slave.

He felt the weight of the bag slowly in his hands, and his face turned sour. "This is only five hundred."

"That's the deal. If you want the tribal back it'll cost you a thousand. Take it or leave it."

The man stood there for a second, then reached into his pocket. My heart skipped a beat and I instinctively reached for my trusty shotgun. I stopped mid-motion when he retrieved another money pouch and threw both his and mine back my way. "There's the money you wanted, now let me have Vic."

"You surprise me, stranger. You'd trade a fit, young tribal for an old, fat mechanic? And pay for it too, no less. In times like these you'd be better off with the tribal at your side." I paused for a second, staring into the outsider's dark eyes as I attached both the money pouches to the side of my thick leather armour. "Whatever, your loss, my gain. Vic's your problem now. Just make sure you don't ever come back here again or you'll soon find yourselves rotting out in the wastes for the geckos to feed on... unless you want to take me up on my offer and join the guild…"

The man smiled tightly. "Pleasure doing business with you." He turned to leave, then made one last comment. "See you around, Sulik."

The young tribal grunted as my men pushed him through the doorway and into the cage outside.

I thought I'd seen the last of them that day, but they were back again the next night, the outsider and the fat man. They came bursting through the door and into my main room without hesitation. I nodded to my guards scattered around the room, they removed their weapons from their holsters and kept their eyes trained on the unwelcome visitors. "I thought I told you not to come back."

The outsider smiled. "Yeah, you did. But I have another proposition for you."

I gestured to my guards in the room. "Leave, now. I'm not interested in any more of your business."

"You shouldn't mess us tribals around. You might end up regretting it."

"If you don't get off my property right now, I'll enjoy the pleasure of shooting you myself."

"Alright, I'm leaving." The man conceded and turned back to the fat man. "Looks like we've overstayed our welcome. Let's go, Vic."

"Sure thing, boss." The fat man replied.

And with that, they left my guild again.

I returned to my office as soon as they were gone. I had a ton of work to get through and the last thing I needed was a tribal outsider with an attitude problem that just wouldn't leave town.

I had just sat down at my desk when I heard the first shot, followed by a heavy thump as a body hit a concrete slab outside. My first thought was that those Jet junkies were just putting each other out of their misery over a cheap fix, but my gut told me different. I picked up my shotgun from the desk and charged back into the main room.

Another few shots called out into the cool night outside and a scream of pain followed. I nodded to the guards, who already held their weapons ready. They took up defensive positions around the room and I stood defiantly in the centre.

I heard the sound of the exterior door being kicked in. I loaded a couple of fresh shells into my gun and snapped the barrel tightly, ready to take my revenge. Another body fell to the wooden floor just on the other side of the door ahead of me. Then there was silence.

I waited for several more seconds, then breathed a sigh of relief. That must have been the end of the attacker.

I was already calculating the expense of recruiting some new guards to replace the ones who were stupid enough to get killed so far tonight, then without warning, the door to my rear splintered and rattled in its rusted hinges. I turned to face the door to the cage and pulled my shotgun up to bear just as a heavy sledgehammer broke through the door's surface with another crack. I shot a round through the door and waited for a second, but the sledgehammer swung again and the door fell free of its frame. I fired another round and caught the young tribal in his right arm. He dropped the huge hammer and fell out of sight. I couldn't help but smirk as I snapped my shotgun's barrel open again to reload it.

Before my hand had even reached my pocket, a window exploded in showers of glass and one of my guards fell to the floor, blood leaking from the hole in the back of his head. The sound of a hunting rifle discharging echoed against the night as another guard fell to his death. My men were dropping like flies and there was nowhere left to run.

I ducked out of sight of the shooter and span around just in time to see the other door swing open, and the outsider strode into my room. He levelled a desert eagle stolen from my door guard and shot my remaining men before they could react in the confusion, leaving me alone with him. I aimed my empty shotgun up at him, hoping he would fall for the simple bluff. "Get the hell out of my guild."

The outsider returned the pistol to his belt and smiled again, his eyes somehow darker than before. "As I said, Metzger. Don't mess with tribals."

I snapped the shotgun open as fast as I could and reached for my ammo pocket, but I found the pocket empty. My sight was caught by a small object the outsider fiddled with in his hands. It was a shotgun shell.

My face dropped, and before I could launch myself at the other man to pound his face into the dirt, the heavy sledgehammer paid me another visit. The hammer's head crushed half my ribs with the first impact and broke my left leg with the follow up swing. I collapsed face up to see the young tribal holding the sledgehammer firmly in his hands, ignoring the shotgun wound on his other arm. I tried to stand, but the pain overwhelmed me as I felt my warm, wet blood escaping from my body.

"Check him." The outsider ordered the other tribal.

With the tribal's large hands looting my pockets, I felt the floor vibrate as the fat mechanic entered the room with a hunting rifle nestled in his arms. "Can I have his shotgun, boss?"

"Sure, but I get dibbs on his armour."

The pain slowly died away and my head felt lighter and lighter as the room faded to black, forever. 


End file.
